Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jess
T he TV was dark when I woke from a nap of undetermined length and slowly stretched my arms overhead. Bones’ purr activated when I moved, part greeting and part rebuke, and I leaned down to kiss his head and further terrorize him.
When I sat up, I realized just what I’d been doing—I’d been sleeping on Beast. On Jude. I’d had my head resting fully against him, and he’d stayed there.
Now he sat with his elbows on his knees and his glass dangling between two fingers.
Tenderness laced with embarrassment looped around my chest. I’d been on him, and he hadn’t said a word. I hadn’t worn a watch, nor had I checked the time before I passed out against him, so who knew how long he’d endured me invading his space.
I stood, wishing my sleepy mind would find the right words, but decided to take a moment. I used the bathroom, splashed water on my face, and emerged to find him still sitting there in the dim glow of the dying fireplace and only the stove light in the kitchen.
His face tipped up as I approached, and his brows rose as I took the glass and set it down, then stepped between his legs. My heart beat fast and I was possibly out of my mind, but instead of second-guessing, I steadied myself on one of his immovable shoulders. The other hand came to his cheek, my short-trimmed nails gliding over his beard before settling against it.
“Thank you.”
He shook his head, forever unwilling to acknowledge he might deserve thanks, but then leaned his head, pressed against my hand like he wanted to feel it more distinctly. I could swear his giant cat had done the same thing the day I’d met him. These two were just… precious. And what a wild feeling to experience, wasn’t it?
I should’ve stepped away then. I should never have encroached on his personal bubble like this, or touched his face in such an intimate way, but it felt like I had the right to after he’d literally bathed me and seen me at what was very close to my worst these last few days. This dreamlike moment with gauzy, dim light and quiet between us made the barriers disintegrate, and the undeniable shift in me take hold.
The hang of his head and the shadows under his eyes were things I hadn’t noticed before my time here, but I hadn’t been looking.
And if I had? Would I have been glad he looked restless and sleepless? Would I have been happy he seemed to be lost?
No .
The truth echoed like a word shouted into a ravine. A place in me emptied out of the vitriol and hatred I’d let loose, now reverberating back at me. No. If I’d known why he was grieving, I wouldn’t have been glad. And I would’ve laid off him.
But God forgive me, if I hadn’t known… I might’ve reveled in it. I might’ve had the nasty satisfaction that came when your enemy was knocked down a peg.
This man?
Was he really my enemy?
The silence had crowded in around us, night blanketing the world and maybe because of this, I let myself ask him, “Why?”
The intensity baked into the fabric of his character didn’t waver, nor did his eyes on mine. I willed him to respond—to understand what I was asking and tell me the answer I’d wanted for years.
Nothing came. He only stared into me, seeing past whatever I’d set in front of him down to my broken little heart, and then he shook his head. My chest might’ve been caving in, a sink hole right in the middle, eating away at more and more of me the longer he stayed quiet.
His large, warm hand covered mine where it still cupped his bearded cheek, and he pressed it more firmly against him before he pulled it away and gently guided it back to my side.
“We should be able to drive out tomorrow. I’ll get you home.”
Why this crushed me, I couldn’t have explained for all the world. Maybe because I’d genuinely thought he’d tell me something new. I’d hoped, at least for a fleeting few seconds, he would give me something beyond the stonewall he’d shoved in my face for years .
I swallowed hard and nodded, then stepped away. “Right.”
Before I reached the hallway, his low voice said, “You won’t want to hear it.”
I glanced at him over my shoulder, those coal-dark eyes burning back at me. Under another moon, maybe I would’ve stood my ground and pushed back on this nonsense, but I couldn’t right now.
The fortitude to go toe-to-toe with Beast eluded me, and though his words were softly spoken, they had the Beast edge to them. This wasn’t Jude anymore.
Jude was the man who’d taken care of me so faithfully the last few days despite how I’d barged in on his mountain sanctuary. Jude had made homemade bread and stew and watched my favorite show with me. Jude had let me touch his face.
But Beast had answered just now, harkening back to the forever rift between us that kept us from getting past anything and clinging to the hurt—or at least it did me. He had something to say, and I’d known it from Day One, but he’d refused to tell me what it was. He’d hidden it away, and I didn’t understand why, especially now after so long, he wouldn’t just be honest.
I slipped into bed after rushing through cleaning up in the bathroom and marveling once again at the fact he’d had a spare toothbrush and little travel toothpaste. My face would probably never forgive me for neglecting it these last few days. I needed to tell Jo she should put that in one of her books—the heroine gets stuck somewhere and instead of it being super cute and cuddly, she doesn’t brush her teeth, her face breaks out because the hero doesn’t have her normal skincare products, she can’t see because her contacts have dried into shriveled little husks, and she ends up looking like a foul-smelling ghoul who can barely see a foot in front of her by the end of her little stranded in a cabin adventure. How romantic.
But somehow, Beast had provided everything I could need, even if they weren’t the same products I used. I tried not to think about how his deodorant smelled so good and I knew it smelled amazing on him rather vividly after the close contact of the last few days.
All that goodness was fading too rapidly in my mind as his words played again. You won’t want to hear it.
What did it mean? And what kind of excuse was that?
Since when had this man considered what I wanted? If he had…
I shook that off. I was years beyond wishing for a different outcome with Kurt. I’d begged and pleaded with God and the Universe and whoever would listen to make my fiancé bold and come back to me—not to give up and hide away and become my ex.
But in the years since I’d accepted that if he’d left like that then, there was likely no magic in a marriage license that would’ve prevented him from leaving at some point later. I’d come to terms with the truth I’d wanted to be engaged so much. He’d done it for me, but not because he’d wanted it. And wasn’t I glad I hadn’t gone through a wedding and maybe even having a kid with him only to have him leave like my own father had?
I curled in on myself, the pain wrapping around me a visceral reminder of why I didn’t let myself think about any of this. Kurt wasn’t a part of my life anymore and I much preferred to avoid thinking about him, but how could I do that when his former best friend was constantly in my face? And even when he was standing across the conference room, a man of his size always seemed to be shoving his existence into my awareness.
Exhaling through the tears tracking down my face, I made a promise. I wouldn’t be fooled by this bizarre blip in our relationship. I wouldn’t let my guard down with him again, whether I woke up delirious from a high fever or actually escaped his mountain man cabin.
I’d go back to hating Jude “Beast” Rawlins, because the alternative was far too painful.